


Shadow

by EvilRociel



Series: Light and Shadows [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6265447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilRociel/pseuds/EvilRociel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shadow haunts the Light of Asgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow

They say the Son of Odin has fallen to darkness. A shade, they say. Over the Golden One.

Co-regent of Asgard. Gone are the days of youth, the insecurity, the loneliness. Once lost to the Void, he has crawled his way back somehow. Much changed. Incognito. He is safe. No one knows that he is back. They cannot see him. They cannot hear him. He is stronger now and needs no one. Or perhaps, nothing has changed. For like before, he works in the shadows, seen by none but one. But he is well pleased, for the hurt is no more and he now has the King's ear. He whispers his counsel and he is heard. The King listens only to him. And he need speak to no one else. He guides the elder with much wisdom and patience.The nine realms have never before seen such peace and prosperity.

Yet the people fear him. For they fear what they cannot see. They fear the dark, the frosty fingers clawing at the light. They fear the ice cold monster that should not be.They hear of stories from the servants and the guards. Of how he breezes through the lonely halls, a silent chill under cover of night, when moonlight swathes the land in pale eerie silver. Melting into the inky shadows, waiting, seeking to ensnare and drain the warmth of their Light. They imagine he is poisoning their king with his insidious words, his cruel, nefarious games, his dark, malicious thoughts. Perhaps he means to drive their new King to insanity. For it is foretold, one day, some day, he will bring ruin to their home. He scoffs. _Silly Aesir._

Unfettered by duties. Freedom to traverse the nine realms - Muspelheim, Alfheim, Vanaheim, Asgard, Midgard, Jotunheim, Nifleheim, Svartalfheim and Helheim. He has learnt much through the years and treasures greatly all his learning. Knowledge, his toy, which he uses to amuse himself, little tricks and games to bring him laughs. A little chaos and mischief to break the mundane. And if he so fancies, he may deign to wield it as a weapon, to aid and protect his King. His advice, always taken, his counsel, always heeded. Desired. Cherished. Loved. At times, he wanders for stretches on end, he does not know for how many seasons, for time has lost its meaning to him. But he will always return. _Come home._ He hears the soft plea across the distance and he listens. 

Other times, he indulges the elder in an old game they used to play. Before, the other never had trouble seeking him out. Knows all his favourite corners well. But he has gotten much better at the game. And now his seeker fumbles blindly, confused, turning to him out of habit but seeing nothing, endlessly searching but never finding. Sometimes he fancies he is almost seen, a flicker of pale apparition but he recovers quickly, manages to wrap the heavy drapes of the night around him. For he is The Fallen, not of their land, and should not, does not exist. No more. None can touch him. He is immaterial. Except perhaps as a mere thought, a memory.

An eddy of leaves dance around the Dark One, he is in a good mood and playfully shadows the Golden One. Teasing him with light insubstantial touches, like a chilly breeze that haunts the grounds. Taunting the other with ghostly echoes. He drifts away. Hiding soft laughter behind a well-loved book, observing quietly the futile efforts of a fruitless search.

_Do you not see me, brother? Do you not hear me?_


End file.
